


Finding Peace in Pieces

by Septembre_Rain (Zyrielle)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cor loses Baby Prom, Nyx pretends to be asleep to save his life, Prompto sends a voice Clip to Noct in the crystal, Quotes from Princess Bride, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, phonecalls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-01-06 22:12:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18397373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/pseuds/Septembre_Rain
Summary: My drabbles In Final Fantasy XVChocobrosDadbrosSongficsPhone conversationsA dump that will be updated as I go





	1. Just A Little Longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Songfic about when Noct goes up the steps of the Citadel one last time. 
> 
> Can't we just hold on a little longer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the bridge of the song "Just A Little Longer" By Shy Martin
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TaS4I6asy0A
> 
> [Bridge]  
> I will miss the dancing in the dark  
> I will miss the ‘God I miss you' calls  
> I'd miss walking drunk under your arm if you left  
> So stay here
> 
> [Chorus]  
> Just a little longer  
> Even when we're hurting I still want you  
> And if you walk out that door you know it's over  
> Can't we just hold on a little longer?  
> A little longe

_**Just hold on a little longer** _

_**Even when we’re hurting I still want you** _

_**And if you walk out that door you know it’s over** _

_**Can’t we just hold on a little longer?** _

_**A little longer** _  
_**Just a little** _

 

 

_**I will miss the dancing in the dark** _

 

Dark nights in the dark bedroom, under shifty pillow forts, then later in empty ballrooms, and much later, in the empty apartment that was home for a few years.

Twinkle lights that Prompto insisted he needed highlighting sharp features and creating interesting streaks of light and dancing shadows.

Noct hated the waltzes but learning them with Iggy made them worth it.

Promises of late night snacks and bribes whenever he didn't want to practice and rewards when did well in practice and in the balls.

His days would forever be night now, but his king returned so it didn't matter-if only for a while that he was still here.

There should be just one more ball, so they could practice if only-

 

  
**_I will miss the ‘God I miss you’ calls_ **

 

Nights and weeks whenever they couldn't have sleep overs.

Whenever there was a delegation or a function and he couldn't go to school or the arcade.

Late night phonecalls that would stretch into the wee hours in the morning until one of them would fall asleep.

The fact that they spent so much godsdamned time together but never ran out of things to do or got tired.

Late night dinners of takeout and videogames. Sometimes, he would hear the advisor give a resigned sigh over the phone or maybe the shield teasing, but it didn't matter because he was equally as fond.

They were his family and these phonecalls helped him through the worst of it all.

And even through the unending night, it was his voicemail, videos and photos that carried him through.

He kept sending messages to his number even though they never went answered because he always hoped.

He'd then loop over their videos again.

When he came back, he swore he would record everything, make new memories. If only they had more time-

 

 

**_I’d miss walking drunk under your arm if you left_ **

**_So stay here_ **

Times when he was upset and run away, only to be found in the next few hours.

It never lasted long.

It was always the shield who found him.

He'd often be alone, deeming his thoughts too heavy to share with his best friend who had his own insecurities or his advisor who worried about everything under the sun.

Both knew to give him space, but the shield did not.

He knew his presence wasn't always welcome, and he'd have to steel himself for the vitriol that came from the Prince's mouth.

But he swore he would never leave his side, to be there to protect him, even from himself.

He knew the prince didn't mean it, his purpose anyways, to bear his liege's pain, take the blows and anything the world had to throw at them.

The prince knew it was useless to push him away.

They had a pattern already.

Everytime the prince/king disappeared, the shield would come looking for him.

And when he did find him, he'd already have a glass poured for him, waiting.

It became a thing.

They would make do with passable whiskey-his dad kept the good stuff but then...

It would always be the two of them, the ones left standing.

The other two already out cold, on their way to lamenting their decisions in the morning.

There would be drunken walks, arm in arm, and they could pretend that everything was okay.

 

But then his king left and for a long and silent damning moment, he had no one left to protect.

He had everyone else left to protect but they weren't Noct.

He'd tried his best to be strong even though the days became shorter until they disappeared completely.

It was a strange thing, like the world was empathized with him in the loss of his purpose.

There was all the whiskey but no one left who wanted to drink it.

So he did.

Sometimes in the haze he could pretend again that he was still there.

It was unfair, that his king went somewhere he couldn't follow-somewhere he couldn't be his shield.

 

When Noct returned, he held back from letting him know.

That there was a bottle, it was both their dads' favorite, salvaged from a ruined Quay.

He'd been saving it for his return, because he always believed that once the scourge was gone, they'd be able to savor their victory in liquid amber.

But as his king climbed those steps, he knew he would have to pretend on his own again.


	2. When the King Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis' phone log
> 
>  
> 
> The first of many

The phone rings.

Clarus grumbles as he picks up his phone, not bothering to look at the name or the time.

"What is it Regis."

"Clarus, I just had the greatest idea."

"Is this regarding the economy budget report?"

"No."

"The transport and immigration laws?"

"It isn't."

"The project to rebuild-"

"Good gods Clarus, you're even more boring half asleep. I didn't think that was possible."

"...Cor?"

"Mhmm..."

"Regis, who else is on the line?"

"Hello Clarus. Don't mind me, I've only just begun preparing for bed."

"Good evening Wesk. Long time."

"Indeed it has-"

"Can we get to the point of this already? Cindy has school in a few hours."

"Cranky as always old man. I'm surprised you're still kicking."

"Yeah I'll outlive all of you yet, you little shits-"

"Will you look at that, it's the old crew all back together-on the phone at least."

"Yeah I missed you too sweetheart. Get to the point."

"Tsk tsk tsk, did we disturb Cor's nappy time?"

"You disturbed all our naptimes, darling. I knew I should have drunk more this evening."

"Regis."

"I'm just so happy we're all talking again."

"I talk to you everyday. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Like, right now."

"Shut up Clarus and let me enjoy this."

"It's too early for this shi-"

"Y'all know you can just drive out here to Hammerhead right? Cor comes here a lot."

"Or you could come to Altissia. Cor drops by too."

"Regis could never leave on such short notice."

"Pffft."

"Cid. He isn't supposed to know."

Clarus groans. "Well now I do."

"Oh no."

"... Wait, so Cor sees you all on a regular basis? That's so unfair-"

"Well you could-"

"Don't encourage him Cor."

"If you don't mind my asking gentlemen, what is the purpose of this conference?"

"Well you see, Noctis woke up, so I went to his Chambers and I was putting him back to sleep. Then I got this amazing idea..."

"This ought to be interesting."

"No shit."

"Cor."

"Weskham."

"Cid."

"Regis."

"Clarus."

"What is this, a rolecall?"

"It can be anything you want it to be darling."

"Sweetheart."

"Shortcake."

"Numbnuts."

"Garula butt."

"I swear to the Six if this goes on..."

"Regis."

"Yeah, so as I was saying, we're all fathers now, yeah?"

"I have been for quite some time, to my two children, yes."

"I'm not."

"Keep fooling yourself Cor. I've yet to see you without that half chocobo attached to your hip."

"It's temporary."

"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." 

"There is nothing temporary about what you have with your human chocobo, kid."

"Should we let you keep lying to yourself?"

"Do tell your kid I said hello."

"You guys can shove-"

"Well I'm a Grandpa now, if that counts."

"You're good Cid."

"Glad to know I still have his Majesty's approval."

"Well I'm certainly not."

"Yeah, Weskham is a different kind of daddy."

"Cor I swear-"

"Swearing is rude Wesk. You taught me that."

"Will you two please."

"Wesk has always been a daddy if you ask me."

"The point please, the point."

"So then it just dawned on me. We should call ourselves... Wait for it-"

"Oh dear Ifrit-"

"I know I have some whiskey around here-"

"Why are you the king of Lucis-why?"

"See here, Reggie has never been the sharpest tool in the shed-"

"We should call ourselves the ROYAL DADDIES CLUB! I've filled out a form, made it a royal decree-stamped it already-"

"We are NOT calling ourselves that."

"Wait so you made a proposal for yourself and approved it-yourself?"

"That sounds like a name of a strip club."

"Yeah definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed."

"We can have a brooch, a ring, or Tshirts-"

"Clarus, is Regis well?"

"That's it. Reggie's off his rocker. It's official."

"Regis, I am going to pour Ebony X into your favorite pond."

"Please spare my fish Cor."

Clarus sobs into his phone. "It's two forty-five in the morning Regis."

"I know, but Noct was crying and this Golden Nugget of fatherhood just came to me and I had to share it."

"It's too early for this shit. Prompto's waking. I'm hanging up."

"We still on for Tuesday Kid?"

"Not a kid anymore Cid, but yes we're still on for Tuesday."

"Bring the fluffball with you."

"Reggie?"

"Nine o'clock at Takka's?"

"You know it."

"Have him make that thing that I like, extra spicy this time. He was holding back on me." 

"Regis, everyone  knows you can't handle your spice. But I'll tell him as long as you bring the Good Stuff."

"Hmmm the Good Stuff. You sure you want me to bring the kid?" 

"Yeah, Prompto likes Cindy well enough and she's a better babysitter than you ever will be."

"Takka's huh? Sounds like I need to make a trip. Oh look, I have an open ticket for a ferry to Galdin."

"Great now Wesk is coming. He's gonna clean you out of your garage Cid."

"We all know Wesk could gamble his way to the throne if he wanted to."

"Regis, I am right here and as your head of security-" 

"But Cor's with me."

"I'll be there but I'm not gonna watch your royal ass."

"Don't worry Clarus, you're invited too. We've been saving a seat for ya."

"The first official meeting of the ROYAL DADDIES CLUB is happening!"

"That's it. Goodnight geezers." Click.

"Regis, how-do I even want to know?"

"No you don't Clarus. Believe me you don't."

"Don't mind me, I'm just here playing the piano to soothe Clarus' nerves, and hopefully get you to relax, Regis."

"Regis I am officially banning your phone privileges between 9 pm to 6 am. That's it. I am grounding you. You are officially grounded!"

"You can't ground the king."

"Oh Astrals help me Regis I will-"

"Is that snoring?"

"I believe that may be Cid, given that Cor's already hung up."

"Thanks Wesk. That's a really beautiful piece by the way. What is it?"

"Thanks it's a personal composition. I haven't named it yet."

"Can we please go back to sleep now?"

"Go ahead Clarus. I'll keep him company."

"Thank you Weskham. Please don't let him talk you into doing anything."

"You forget who I am Clarus. Regis' methods of manipulation is but child's play to me."

"Of course. I certainly do miss you here Wesk. You could always knock Regis down a peg or ten."

"You know I can hear you both."

"Anytime Clarus. And do note I don't need to be there to knock Regis down to size."

"Please do us all a favor. Goodnight old friend. Regis, I hope you get diarrhea."

"Tch. Absolutely nasty Clarus."

Click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regis is that friend who will call you at 2 am for absolutely stupid shit. You can't convince me otherwise.


	3. Quotes, FFXV in The Princess Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quote crossover with The Princess Bride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who rewatched The Princess Bride? Here's a crossover nobody asked for.

 

”As you wish.”

-Ignis Scientia, begrudgingly on most things.

 

”No more rhymes now, I mean it!”

“Does anybody want a peanut?”

“Gah!”

-Ignis to Gladio, whenever Gladio tries being a poet.

 

"Inconceivable!”

-Ignis Scientia on Noctis’ habits, because Noctis.

 

”Who are you?”

“No one of consequence.”

“I must know.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

“Your face is a disappointment.”

-Noctis and Ardyn, first meeting in Galdin Quay.

 

”I’m on the brute squad.”

“You ARE the brute squad.”

-Gladio and Prompto on flexing

 

”Life is Pain. Anyone who says different is trying to sell you something.”

-Ignis on their dwindling budget.

 

”Cynics are simply thwarted romantics.”

-Gladio, defending his choice of books.

 

”True love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops.”

-Ignis Scientia on curatives.

 

“Just because you’re beautiful and perfect, it’s made you conceited.”

-Prompto to Noctis on his terrible poses.

 

“Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.”

-Prompto to the Chocobos on Wiz’ farm.

 

”There is nothing better than true love in the whole world. Except a nice MLT. Mutton, lettuce, and tomato when the mutton is nice and lean and the lettuce is nice and crisp. Ohhh you can’t beat it.”

-Wiz, on sandwiches

 

“What about the ROUSs?”

“You mean Ravus’ Obnoxiously Unbearable Singing?”

-Noctis and Luna in Altissia before the summoning of Leviathan.

 

“Love is many things none of them logical.”

-Luna on her obsession with mythology and tragedies.

 

”Your pig fiance is too late. A few more steps and we’ll be safe in the fire swamp.”

-Ravus to Luna, running away with Luna.

 

"Good night, Prompto.Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

-Verstael to young Prompto, in the MT facility.

 

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

— Clarus Amicitia, on Cor’s use of the word “temporary” when talking about keeping Prompto.

 

“When I was your age, television was called books.”

-Clarus Amicita, while introducing a teen Gladio to his collection of novels.

 

“Never go against a Galahdian when DEATH is on the line.”

-Nyx Ulric on the ‘spicy’ skewers.

 

”You’re trying to kidnap what I’ve rightfully stolen.”

-Glauca to Nyx, on rescuing Luna.

 

“My name is Noctis Lucis Caelum. You killed my father. Prepare to die”.

-Noctis to General Glauca before skewering him with a fishing pole.

 

”We’ll never survive!”

“Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.”

-Regis and Bahamut, arguing about the stupid prophecy.

 

“Do you have six fingers on your left hand?”

-Ravus to Iedolas after he orders him to hunt his sister.

 

“Who says life is fair, where is that written?”

-Noctis to Bahamut in the crystal.

 

“I do not think you would accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you.”

“That does put a damper on our relationship”

-Ardyn and Noctis, sometime before the crappy ending.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To fic or not to fic?  
> Says the girl with a million WIPs as her braincells scream in agony in the background.


	4. A Safe Place to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That time when Cor thought he lost baby Prom

  
Prompto whines loudly from his room.

  
  
Cor has gone through this enough times to know what comes next. He shuffles to the side of his bed, leaving enough space for the child to snuggle in once he inevitably creeps into Cor’s room, trying and failing to be quiet. Often times, Cor falls asleep after the first signs, only to be woken up again by little Prompto worming his way through his blanket, seeking warmth. Sometimes Cor sleeps through it all. Tonight exhaustion wins him over and he sleeps.

  
  
He’s surprised to when he wakes to find the blankets empty and the half of the bed cold. He thinks that maybe the little boy is finally trying to be grown up and spend his nights alone. The thought of it leaves a hollow pit in his stomach, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

 

Cor had an idea of the things they did to him in the lab. Prompto deserved a better childhood and he didn’t need to force himself to mature fast. Cor liked letting Prom be a kid, although he would never admit it. Well, maybe not yet.

  
It was nice waking up to the familiar warm bundle in his arms, with that baby smell that he had grown used to and hoped would never fade. It became an unconscious habit of his, sniffing Prompto as if he needed confirmation that he was there. Cor did it at the end of a long day and the boy was all too eager to jump into his arms. Prompto did that whenever they were separated for more than half a day. The child didn’t mind-he definitely enjoyed the attention. 

  
Prompto was his anchor, a lighthouse in the dark and stormy sea. He was so small and soft and warm and innocent. But he kept Cor grounded and reminded him that the world hadn't gone to shit, that good things still existed and not just death and blood and daemons and war. Prompto definitely helped Cor through some rough nights by simply being there.

  
  
Cor squints at the clock. The dull neon green light showed 5:05 am. It was still dark out, cold and quiet. 

  
Choosing not to stew on his disappointment at the non-appearance of his not-son, Cor resolves to check on him, striding stealthily into the other bedroom down the hall. 

  
He is greeted by the smell of crayons, fruit juice, baby powder and sticky laundry. The night light paints the walls with dancing yellow chocobos and stars, while playing a slow, cheerful chime that Prompto likes. Clothes, toys, and colorful drawing-filled papers are strewn all over the floor. 

  
At first glance, nothing seems wrong with the room. Except for the empty bed. Cor’s blood freezes in his veins. The bathroom lights were off and he hadn’t heard the water running. He looks under the bed, inside the cabinets, behind curtains, under the tables-he isn’t there. He goes back to his room, does another search there while trying to keep a lid on the panic that was clawing at his insides trying its best to break out.

  
  
He’s handled missing people before-his own subordinates, colleagues, they were all soldiers. They knew what they were getting into and knew how to handle themselves. Prom was not a soldier. He held on to the desperate hope that the child was still within the apartment, but after tearing through half of the apartment, Cor’s head began to spin.

  
  
His throat was dry, lungs were feeling like heavy lead filled balloons, both hands were trembling, itching to reach for the sword that assured him he at least had a fighting chance to win-but that would not help in this situation. This was not that type of battle.

  
  
The kid was not his the office, not in either of their bedrooms, or the kitchen. He would have sensed it if someone had broken into his house. Unless they were that good. Cor cursed under his breath. Had the Nif spies found out and taken him back? What if the kid had wandered out on his own when he woke up crying? What if someone saw the kid wandering and picked him up? What if they were criminals? 

  
Cor cursed at himself. Never again would he leave Prompto alone if he so much as sniffled in the middle of the night. A multitude of possible scenarios and corresponding plans of action were flying through his brain a mile a minute. He found himself praying to the Astrals who did nothing but screw with him and the ones he held dear to spare him-his little boy. Desperation was starting to feel like a spear that split through his chest. 

  
He was ready to storm out of the house in the dark, on his way to grab his boots and coat. He was still in the clothes he had slept in, pajamas be damned. He was ready to fly out the door and search the barely lit neighborhood, end anyone who as much as touched his kid-he already had Monica on speed dial. He already had names of the best of the crownsguard to run a search party or a retrieval AND a clean up team if necessary. His hand was a few inches from the door knob when he finally saw them. 

  
Nyx, dead to the world, despite the racket Cor made conducting his search-and the telltale tuft of blond hair sticking out from underneath their shared thick blanket. The owner of said tuft tucked securely in the glaive’s chest. They were mostly melded into the couch and buried under one of Cor’s old comforters.

  
  
Prompto was equally dead to the world and seemed perfectly content where he was, by the way he was snoring-thank Six. They were obscured as the sofa was turned towards the wall. Nyx had moved it there to avoid the sun’s rays in the morning. Cor hadn’t invested in light blocking curtains just yet.

  
  
Cor literally melts to the floor, sinking to his knees. Relief felt like cold water as it washed over him and flooded his being. The relief he felt was almost like another kind of hysteria. His pulse was still running like a racehorse on drugs and he was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. His insides were still trembling from the adrenaline and his lungs still felt like they could burst and damn it hurt and it felt like time just fucking slowed, but Prom is here. He's alive and he’s alright- 

  
“Somebody better be dying Cor.” Monica’s sharp and frosty voice slices through the white noise, coming from phone in his hand, effectively cutting his descent into madness short. 

  
He fumbled a bit, trying to remember how his hands worked, nearly dropping the phone before bringing it to his ear. 

  
“It’s alright Monica. I found him. He's right here.” Cor rasped, breathless and tired. 

  
Monica pauses for a moment, putting the untold pieces together. 

  
“Well give yourself a pat on the back, Daddy. Is Prompto alright?” 

  
“Yes he is.” 

  
“Good. Now do you know what fucking time it is?” 

  
“What are you bitching about? You usually get up this early.”

 

“It’s a fucking Sunday, Boss.” Monica hisses.

  
  
Cor winced. He didn’t really think about these things. He was always up like clockwork no matter what day of the week it was. But he had an inkling of how important they were to the rest of the world. He just didn't treat weekends like they were different, simple as that. 

  
“Yeah, alright. Sorry about that. I’ll try to make it up to you.” 

  
She sighs. “Get some rest Cor. Sounds like you need it.” 

  
  
“Thanks Monica.”

  
  
“Anytime-BUT NOT on weekends, then your limited from noon till 6." 

  
Cor lets his hand sag to his side, phone going dark as the call ended.

  
  
He crawls to the couch. He can feel his muscles tremble at the effort. He settles on the floor, in front of the two sleeping figures. Nyx’s breath blew at Prompto's hair in a slow rhythm, the stubborn blond locks defiantly standing against the onslaught.

  
  
They both look so damn peaceful, unaware of the murderous havoc that was nearly unleashed upon the streets of Insomnia just moments ago.

  
  
He peels back the blanket, careful with Prom, less than careful with Nyx. The man could sleep through a stampede of rampaging Garulas, so Cor wasn’t worried. Frankly speaking, he didn’t really care at the moment.

  
  
He gathered Prompto in his arms and gently held him tight to his chest, nuzzling the golden bird’s nest on his head. The child protested the loss of warmth but soon settled in the familiar body of Cor. He choked back a half sob-half chuckle of relief as he cradled his not-son in his arms. 

  
“He’s a cute kid-although a little fussy, and he kicks in his sleep.” Nyx rasps from the couch.

  
  
Cor turns to see Nyx watching them in interest with eyes half mast. If looks could kill, Nyx would be dead three times over.

  
Cor tightens his grip on Prompto to prevent himself from grabbing Nyx by the throat and releasing his pent-up energy.

  
  
He couldn't. Well, shouldn't. 

  
And so he growls instead.

  
  
"In my defense Marshal, my head would've rolled to the floor before I'd gotten a word in."

  
  
Cor merely huffs, still trying to quell his nerves and the need to rip the glaive a new one. He takes in deep breaths, drinking in the baby scent while willing his heart to calm down and the haze in his brain to dissapate. Nyx was, although rarely, probably right. Cor would not have reacted ideally just moments ago.

  
"I was in the kitchen, getting some water when the kid came out. I asked him if he wanted some but he just stood there, watching me. I tried to approach him, see if he needed anything but he was scared. Kid hid behind the door and I didn't wanna scare him further. He did come to me after I settled back into the couch."

  
  
Nyx paused.

 

Cor looks at him and sees the bruise-dark shadows beneath his eyes. Cor knew the torment that Nyx faced. Fear was one thing they all had in common. War does that to you, if you stay alive long enough.

  
It takes everything, ripping everything you hold dear from your still bleeding hands, then tears you to pieces that will never fit or stick back together no matter how hard you try. 

  
Once you're scarred and hollow and wishing you were dead, it finds new ways to screw you. Just when you think you had nothing left to lose, it takes another piece. It was a black hole that just kept on taking and taking and taking. If you were fortunate, you could bury your dead, or were buried alongside them. 

  
  
For people like Cor and Nyx, laying down and dying was not an option. Their responsibilities and duties were too great for the to just roll over and die. Men like them pushed forward, fueled by something profound or something incredibly stupid. They fought. They had to. 

  
They were also haunted-by their reasons, their enemies, people they couldn't save. They were still paying the price in bucketloads of guilt and self loathing, and in pieces of themselves that just weren't there anymore. Enemies they couldn't fight attacked them in their sleep, in their waking moments, in their daily lives. 

  
It was what drove Nyx to Cor's couch in the first place. No place felt safe. While his island was infested with actual Imperials and MTs and their daemons, his apartment was filled with ghosts of the dead and Imperial forces conjured by his fractured mind. 

  
Nyx had wanted to get away. Libertus would have forced him to talk about it, but he was equally if not more scarred and was growing increasingly bitter.

 

And so he hit the streets, but he was Galahdian and he wasn't exactly welcome or wanted everywhere except in the most obscure and seedy places. It was there that Cor found him. 

  
Cor wouldn't let Nyx drink himself to the ground or get himself well and truly fucked by questionable substances or even more questionable people. And so Cor took Nyx to his home and let him claim the couch. He's been there ever since. That was-how many days ago? 

  
Cor didn't really pay enough attention to notice. He was often tired, and whatever attention he could spare was focused solely on Prompto. 

  
He'd completely forgotten that Nyx was there in his frantic search for the boy. Cor grimaces. He'll need to reevaluate just how attached he was, and his priorities. 

  
And so they sat in silence, three boys haunted by their pasts. 

  
One painfully young and innocent, blissfully unaware of the power he had over the second most powerful man in all of Lucis, dreams haunted by actions done to him that he did not understand. 

  
One soldier who had lost so much: family, home and dignity, but still had more to lose. Carted off in a city that shunned outsiders like him, he was finding sanctuary in unknown places with unfamiliar people. 

  
One who already had too much of the war on his plate, blood on his hands and death on his back. He told himself he had no room for any more people in his life, but was surprised how easily the little one had settled in. It felt natural, like breathing. Even if he denied and fought against acknowledging it. He didn't know the extent of it yet, but it looked like another one has wormed his way in and would not be leaving anytime soon.  


  
  
\+ 

  
  
\+ 

  
  
+


	5. Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto sends Noctis a voice clip while he's in the crystal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by OneRepublic's song Come home. Lyrics at the end

**Voice Clip #xx**

**Date Unknown**

 

"Hey buddy. It's me, checking in as always. It's been three years. I sure hope you've still got some juice in your battery. I mean, the Crystal's got tons of energy so it only makes sense right?"

 

"Gladio tells me I should stop messaging you but Ignis doesn't say anything. Well, whatever. I'm gonna keep calling and texting you anyways. Not like they've ever been successful at keeping us apart aye? You ain't getting rid of me that easily."

 

"We celebrated your birthday at Iggy's place today, then we drove over to you, to see if you'd... Perhaps..."

 

"I told Iggy we should try to give you a slice of the cake. Like chuck it in crystal or something, but he just got this look on his face. So I threw you one of the cupcakes I made instead. They aren't as good as Iggy's but... I hope you got it. Icing is hard to make you know. Your presents are piling up man. You're gonna have to come claim them or I'll start donating them to charity. Nah. I wouldn't do that to you."

 

"My birthday was done horror style, you'd be impressed. We sat around a fire, 'coz the sun decided to take an indefinite hike or vacation off somewhere. We told stories, although most of Gladio's were pretty gory, but I'd choose those stories over his torrid sex life. Iggy made me curry and some cake too. It was nice, you'd have liked it. It would have been a million times better if you were there though."

 

"Cor came by and celebrated with us. He gave me this old-school Polaroid camera. I've got lots of new pictures to show you. I've saved some paper for you of course. It wouldn't be a worthy portfolio if it didn't have my hero-slash-best friend-slash-model's pictures in it. I sure hope you've learned some new poses though. Alright, I promise I won't complain about your ultimate pose anymore. Just come back so we can actually start taking those photos."

 

"Our baby black Chocobo's grown up now. Iggy's named her Ebony. It fits right? My Chocobo's had babies and I've named one of them after you. That's right bud, you aren't the only Noctis running around. This Noct eats his veggies. He's only up to my knees but he's already putting you to shame."

 

"I've created a new character in King's knight and I'm already waaay above your level dude. You have a lot of catching up to do."

 

"I sure hope you're listening to these dude. I don't know how many of these I've sent but if there's a chance you're listening... You should know we're still here waiting for you."

 

"I'll even let you keep the first ones and use them to blackmail me. I'm sure they sound horrible. I never did take myself to be the type who cries over the phone. Who would have thought, right bud? But you're my best friend so I know you can keep a secret."

 

"That's it for me I guess. Until next time. I know I've spammed your inbox, but I would literally kill to have you return my messages-even those one letter replies that I hate."

 

"Don't underestimate me dude. I can text you 'good mornings' and 'good nights' and send you my daily journal entries until the end of time just to make you jealous and maybe come out-even just to tell me to stop."

 

"Gladio and Iggy miss you, but not as much as I do. I dunno, I'm sure you're gonna have to ask them yourself since they're too stubborn."

 

"Just come back to us, alright? I'll be waiting. Always."

 

Click

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, world  
> Hope you're listening  
> Forgive me if I’m young  
> For speaking out of turn  
> There’s someone I've been missing  
> I think that they could be  
> The better half of me  
> They’re in the wrong place tryin' to make it right  
> But I’m tired of justifying  
> So I say to you
> 
>  
> 
> Come home, come home  
> 'Cause I've been waiting for you  
> For so long, for so long  
> And right now, there's a war between the vanities  
> But all I see is you and me  
> And the fight for you is all I've ever known  
> So come home


	6. Made for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek at Regis’ perspective on growing up and the way things are with the crystal.
> 
> Warning: suicidal thoughts

**One and two and three and four**

 

**I was writing, thinking with my long hand**

**Put pen to paper, everything was sinking**

**Then start to wonder how you're gonna handle me**

**When I'm under, swimming in the darkest sea**

 

**Everybody wants you to make it, it's all yours**

**Everybody wants you to take it, it's all yours**

**Can you feel all the love?**

 

**You feel all the love**

**Can you feel all the love like it was made for you?**

**Like it was made for you**

**It was made for you**

 

**Tell me something, something that can move me**

**Tell me lies and I swear you're gonna lose me**

**Getting like an ocean jealous of the fish**

**It feeds your devotion, swimming inside of me**

  
  


++++++++++++

  
  


Regis climbs up the marble steps to the throne. Everything here is painfully familiar. He still remembers being carried up the stairs as a child who wasn't strong enough to climb up on his own, slipping, falling and giving his shins all sorts of bruises from running up these very same stairs and the worried looks from the guards and his father. Much later, when he starts to understand the weight and meaning of the room, the stairs and the throne, he runs to the roof. 

 

It's the highest point in all of Insomnia. Here, with the throne, the crystal, his father, the city and her people are below his feet. Regis is not arrogant, no. He just has trouble marrying the fact that all the things he's know since he was young came at the hefty price of his life as well as those who came before him and those who will come after. 

 

He's tempted to end it all, to just throw himself off the tower. He could meet his inevitable end or warp away last second. At least here he'd be able to make the choice. 

 

He'd steal himself away from the will of the gods and deny them his life and his descendants' lives. The Lucis Caelums were fodder for the crystal, the gods, Insomnia and her citizens. It wasn't fair. 

 

But he could make a choice, take a dive and perhaps watch it all fall apart from the afterlife. Now wouldn't that be the ultimate act of defiance towards the gods?

 

"Regis… Oh for fucks sake. Can we please-just get your ass back in here." 

 

The Prince turns around slowly, reluctant to turn away from his view of the orange and pink view of the sunset. 

 

Clarus is clinging on to the thin railing, taking slow, shaky steps towards him. He'd always found it hilarious that his shield could climb steep mountain sides and steep rock cliffs, but hate the highest point of the Citadel. They've talked about it once, some time ago. 

 

_ "The difference is that I've scaled those things with my bare hands. The Citadel however-" _

 

_ "You wanna try? We could make a sport of it." _

 

_ "Don't be ridiculous, Regis."  _

 

And so there they were. Clarus is slowly inching towards Regis, clinging on to the metal bars for deal life on the narrow marble path. 

 

He had no idea what was going through Regis' head.  

 

_ Would he jump after me? _

 

"You can't tell me what to do Clarus." Regis says defiantly. 

 

He can hear Clarus muttering curses underneath his breath. 

 

Regus turns around, facing the sky once more. 

 

"I won't let them tell me what to do." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Inspired by OnePerublic’s song of the same title.


End file.
